


The Most Unfair Accusation in the World

by MoonlightSalsa



Series: Branch 1: The Unnamed Planet [5]
Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Blood, Crime, Friendship, Gen, I have no idea what else to tag this, Murder, Pity, Thievery, Trauma, cursing, ending will be heartwarming I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2019-08-11 09:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16472822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightSalsa/pseuds/MoonlightSalsa
Summary: The Gangreen Gang are in trouble with the law yet again, but this time they're innocent.They're petty thieves, not murderers.





	1. Chapter 1

The ninth of June dawned misty with a steady rainfall, unusual weather for the beginning of summer. Especially considering how the previous day was stinking hot but glorious, with crystal-clear skies that turned a fiery orange come sunset. 

But today, rain was dampening the sidewalk, turning the dirt to mud, and leaking through the gaps in the ceiling of the shack the Gangreen Gang resided in. 

“Snake, pass a bucket, will ya,” Ace said as he stared disapprovingly at the leak. 

“Don't have one,” Snake responded. 

“Whaddya mean we don't have one?” 

“I mean we don't have o-” Snake barely got to finish his sentence before Ace punched him in the jaw. “Then go out and find one!” 

“But it'sss raining, Bosss.” 

Ace whacked him again. “I don't care if it's rainin’, I'm not havin’ the shack flooded! Now quit bein’ a baby and go find a bucket!” 

Snake muttered something that definitely would have gotten him punched a third time had Ace heard it, but he pulled on a threadbare raincoat and opened the door and left. 

Ace looked around at the rest of his gang. Grubber was playing his violin in the corner, Arturo was brushing and re-brushing his hair with his comb, and Big Billy was gazing wistfully out the window. 

“Can Billy go outside and jump in the muddy puddles?” Billy asked. 

“No. I'm not havin’ ya trackin’ mud in here like last time.” Ace sat at the table and began shuffling his deck of cards. “Anyone up for a game?” 

They all gathered round the table and Ace had just begun dealing out the cards when Snake ran back inside, slamming the door behind him. 

“What took ya so long?” Ace said sarcastically. 

“Copss. The whole dump isss sswarming with them.” 

“Dang!” Ace stood up. “They must be here about that graffiti in the subway.” 

“I told you you shouldn't have written that!” Arturo said to Grubber, who just responded with a shrug of the shoulders and a raspberry. 

“But we've done heapsss of graffiti before and never got arresssted for it.” Snake pointed out. 

“You're right,” Ace began pacing about, “so why else would they be here? Yous haven't done anything behind my back, have you?” 

“No.” 

“Uh-uh.” 

“Phhrrbt.” 

“No, Bosss.” 

Ace stroked his chin. “Then why-”

He was suddenly interrupted by the sound of wood cracking and splintering. Turning around, he was greeted by the sight of the Powerpuff Girls standing with their arms folded and glaring nastily, except for Bubbles, who seemed to be on the verge of tears. 

Ace glanced up and saw the hole in the ceiling they had made, and the rain falling through it, and proceeded to mildly flip out. 

“Aw, come on! Why couldn't you girls just use the door!” 

“Zip it! I always knew you guys were bad, but I never thought you were this bad!” Buttercup shouted. 

“Yeah! What you did was horrible and disgusting! I can't believe you would do such a terrible thing!” Blossom added. 

“T-t-that p-poor man…” Bubbles whimpered. 

Ace held up his hands. “Whoa whoa whoa, what are ya talkin’ about? And what's wrong with her?” He motioned in Bubbles’ direction. 

“She's traumatised,” Blossom said, rubbing a comforting hand on her sister’s back. “After what you did.” 

“Whaddya mean, what we did? We ain't done nothin’!” 

“You, you…!” Buttercup struggled to keep her rage in check. “MURDERERS!!” 

The gangs faces dropped. 

“Murder?” Snake asked, to no one in particular. 

“Is that why the cops are here?” Arturo asked. 

“Phhffrbbrrt!” Grubber said. 

Billy seemed slow to catch on to what was happening. 

Ace couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stared at his gang, then back to the girls. His sunglasses were slipping down his nose, revealing his shocked, wide eyes, and he didn't bother to push them back up again. 

“There's been a murder?” He asked quietly. 

“Don't play dumb! We know you're guilty!” Blossom said, then whistled. 

Immediately, police officers wearing raincoats burst through the door. They drew their guns and aimed at the gang, who all put their hands up. 

“Officers, arrest them!” Blossom shouted in the same tone of voice a dog owner would use when telling their dog to sic someone. 

Half an hour later Ace was being marched down the hallway of the police station. He knew it fairly well, after all, he'd been down this hallway several times in the past. It almost felt like a second home to him, in some sort of twisted way. 

But now it felt extremely unfriendly. The others who worked there now stared at him with hatred and disgust instead of ignoring him like they did the last few times he was here. 

They arrived at the door to one of the interrogation rooms. The officer three open the door and shoved the teen inside. 

Standing in the corner was the last person Ace expected to see. 

It was the truant officer, Jack Wednesday.


	2. Chapter 2

Ace blinked at him. “What are ya-” 

Jack cut him off. “I'm here because I heard that you'd been arrested for murder. The way things are standing right now means that you and the others might get convicted of murder. So you might as well tell me and Janson the truth: did you or did you not kill Brian Kendall last night?” He said in that rapid way of speaking he had. 

“No!” Ace half-shouted. He was sick of these people accusing him of murder. Who did they think they were? Where was their evidence? 

Jack slammed his hands on the desk. “You do realise that you will most likely be in even more trouble if you lie…”

“I ain't lyin’!” 

The officer, who must be the Janson Jack was talking about, slid into seat at the table and motioned for Ace to do the same. He pulled a piece of paper and a pen from a suitcase by the table. 

“Alright, Mr…?” He looked up at Ace expectantly. 

“Copular. Ace Copular.” 

“Right.” Janson scribbled the name on the paper. He mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like “What the hell kind of name is Ace?” 

“Age and date of birth?” 

“Seventeen, and December twentieth.”

“I need the year as well.” 

Ace told him. 

“Okay. Now what about family. Parents?” 

Ace sniffed. “Dunno. Never gave a shit about me.” 

Janson leaned back in his seat. “First of all, don't use that language. Second of all, what do you mean you don't know about your parents?” 

“They were abusive fuc-I mean people. Ran off one day, ain't never looked back. But as for other family, the gang is my family.” 

Janson snorted, as if that last sentence meant that Ace was screwed. “Okay, but what about actual family? Siblings, cousins, grandparents?” 

Ace shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He hated this Janson, poking his nose in his family matters, stirring up memories Ace would prefer to forget. “No, no and not anymore. Why do ya need to know all this?” 

“Just standard procedure. It's so we have someone to contact for you, since you're a minor.” 

“Well, the only person ya can contact is standing in this very room.” He nodded at Jack. “Unless I can get a lawya…?” 

“I will arrange for a lawyer for you and the rest of the boys when we're done here,” Jack said. “But now we're going to ask you some questions and you're going to answer everyone of them correctly. Remember, you're being recorded,” Jack paused to wave at the camera in the corner of the ceiling, “and anything you say can and will be used against you.” 

Ace leans forward. “A’ight. Shoot.” 

“What were you doing yesterday night?” 

Ace rested his chin on his hands. “Well, since ya asked, me and the boys was spray-paintin’ in the subway. Then we went home and played cards for a bit then went to sleep.” 

“Between what times were you in the subway?” 

“We went in there around eight, I think, and I dunno what time we left. We was down there for a few hours.” 

“And when you returned to the dump, what entrance did you use?” 

Ace raised his eyebrow at the question. “Er, the main one.” 

“The body was found near the front entrance. The time of death is estimated to be between eleven and midnight. Did you happen to see anything out of the ordinary?” 

“Uh-uh.” 

After a few more questions, Janson snapped his briefcase shut. “I think we're done here.” He stood up. Ace did too. He was eager to get out of this place. 

“Does that mean I'm free to go?” 

“No. You're still a suspect. You'll be placed in a holding cell with the rest of your gang until there's sufficient evidence to prove your innocence.” Janson said, and Ace could have sworn he heard a note of smug glee in his voice. 

“Are ya fuckin’ serious?!” Ace slammed his hands against the table. “I answered ya questions, I didn't do nothin’!” 

“Not only are you a suspect, but you're a criminal! We're not going to just let you walk free!” Janson shot back. “Now, not one more word out of you. Follow me.” 

After Ace was led into a room where he was frisked and searched to make sure he wasn't carrying any weapons (they removed his pocket knife, which Ace greatly protested), they threw him into a holding cell, where Grubber and Lil’ Arturo were already there. Grubber was lying on the bed in the corner with his tongue hanging limply out of his mouth, and Arturo was sitting with his arms wrapped around his tiny legs, face buried in his knees, with his beloved comb clenched in his fist. 

Ace knelt beside him. “They let ya keep that?” 

“They thought she was a blade at first; I had to show them that she wasn't. They still wanted to take her anyway. I'm kinda ashamed to say that I acted like a brat until they caved. But this is my Papi’s comb. I'm not letting anyone take her away.” Arturo said. 

Ace then turned his attention to Grubber. “They find anythin’ on ya?” 

“Phlrrrtrrtp.” 

“Had nothin’ on ya, huh?” 

Grubber then sat up and let out a string of raspberries. 

“Yeah, they questioned me too. Whad’ya tell them?” He listened intently to what Grubber spouted out. “They didn't understand ya, huh? Well, as long as they don't know what you wrote in the subway.” He gave a half-hearted snicker. 

The door suddenly opened and Big Billy was pushed inside. 

“So, what’d they do to ya?” Ace asked. 

Billy put his fingers up to his mouth in thought. “Uh, they asked Billy questions about last night, then they asked if Billy uh, killed a man, but Billy didn't, and then they said they didn't believe Billy. And then uh, they take Billy to cell with you guys.” 

“Did they search ya?” 

Billy was about to respond when suddenly there was a commotion from outside. There were lots of heavy footsteps and what sounded like someone being slammed into walls, as well as deep voices booming “grab him!” and “don't let him get away!” Above them was another voice, a more familiar one, shouting “let's go of me!” 

The door then opened one more and Snake was literally tossed in by three burly policemen. One of them called “we don't like snakes here!” before laughing and shutting the door behind him. 

Snake picked up his hat and dusted it off before facing the door and yelling “you bunch of cun-” before Grubber blew out a concerned raspberry. 

“Yeah, I'm alright,” Snake said, stopping his angry tirade. 

“What happened?” Ace asked. 

Snake adjusted his hat on his head before responding. “They assked me a bunch of quesstionss about the murder. I told them I didn't do it. They didn't take it too well. Sssaid I wasss lying. Tried to make a run for it. Didn't take that too well either.” 

“So, what I'm hearin’ is that everyone got blamed for the murder, am I right?” Ace said. Four heads nodded in return. 

Ace growled. “Fuckin’ bullshit! We ain't done none of that shit!” He turned and kicked the wall, then let out a howl of pain. 

“Fuckin’ stone walls!” 

Ace was all set to kick the wall again when Snake grabbed him by the shoulders. “Bosss, you need to calm down…” 

“Bit rich comin’ from ya, ain't it?” Ace said bitterly. 

Snake ignored it and continued speaking. “Look, we’ll find a way out of here. Maybe we can try breaking out…” 

“No no no, then we'll really be in trouble. Look, Jack Wednesday was in the interrogation room with me.” 

“The truancy officer?” Arturo asked. 

“Yeah. He said he was gonna get a lawya for us.” 

Snake raised an eyebrow. “Why are you sssaying that like it’sss a bad thing?” 

“Because even he didn't sound like he believed me! What if he screws us over? What if the lawya doesn't believe us? What then, huh?” 

The cell fell silent until Snake said “thisss lawyer’sss sstill our besst sshot.” It disturbed him a little to see his normally fearless leader so...despondent. 

Ace hobbled over to the mattress and sat down, minding his sore foot. He peered up at his gang.

“Why does everyone think it's us?” 

No one had an answer for him.


	3. Chapter 3

The Professor was furious. It was rage unlike anything he'd felt before, and he had to repeatedly take deep breaths to try and calm himself, as well as make sure he didn't accidentally crush the phone in his hand. 

While the girls were out he'd decided to try his hand at making scones. As he was sliding the tray into the oven he heard the front door fly open, and someone wailing. 

When he exited the kitchen to investigate, he found his girls huddled on the couch and Bubbles was the one crying. All three of them were shivering and their voices stuttered when they tried to talk, though Buttercup’s had a hint of anger. 

After preparing them some tea and waiting until they'd calmed down enough to form coherent sentences, he'd gotten the full story out of them. He was shocked. And horrified. And angry. 

He wasn't just angry that there's been a murder. He was angry that the police seriously thought it was a good idea to let three five-year-old girls see a dead body. 

What the actual fuck were they thinking? 

He'd sent the girls to bed, even though it was barely noon. They could use some rest, especially Bubbles. 

He also felt a spike of anger towards the Gangreen Gang for committing such a heinous crime. It was their fault his girls won't be able to rest easy for the next few weeks. 

The Professor took another breath, held up the phone and dialled the number of an old friend of his, who had been a therapist for a decade. 

Meanwhile, Jack Wednesday was also dialling up an old friend of his. One who owed him a massive favour. 

“Alice,” he said gruffly when the phone picked up. “You remember how you owe me a favour, right?” 

“I do indeed.” 

“I'm calling it in now. I don't suppose you've heard that there's been a murder?” 

“I have. It's the talk of the town.” 

“Well, my recent charges have been accused of committing this murder, and they need someone to defend them. And that someone is going to be you, Alice.” 

“Oh, er, sure. When do you want me to come around?” And where?” 

“Now, at the police station. The police are still gathering evidence and I want us both to make sure they don't fabricate anything. I have a feeling the Gangreen Gang...”

“Hang on, you want me to defend the Gangreen Gang?! They're criminals, defending them would be suicide in my line of work!” 

“Alice, listen to me. Yes they're criminals, yes they're delinquents, yes they're rude, unprincipled, immature and out of control. But I have a feeling they're also innocent of this crime, yet the police still want them behind bars for this. Now, are you a woman of justice or not?” 

“I-I am! You've convinced me. And I guess I do owe you. I'll be right over.” 

When Alive arrived at the police station, carrying a bursting suitcase, she saw Jack thumbing through a magazine in the waiting room, and went over to him. 

“Jack,” she said. 

He looked up. “Alice. Glad you're here. We have much to discuss...what's in the suitcase?” 

Alice readjusted her grip on the bulky object. “Just some things I thought might be important. Copies of their legal rights, as I don't think they'd know them. Other legal document like that. And some snacks.” 

“Snacks.” 

“Yeah. Kids like snacks, don't they? You can always win someone over with food. And I don't think the Gangreen Gang would warm up to me otherwise…” 

“The Gangreen Gang?” A teary voice asked. 

Alice and Jack both turned to see that the person who spoke was a woman in her mid-thirties clutching at a handkerchief. She was well dressed, with a pressed white suit and tidy, voluminous hair. A designer purse lay on the seat beside her. These details made Alice and Jack feel more than a little impoverished in their shapeless beige clothes. 

“Patricia,” Jack muttered, standing up. “The victim’s wife.” 

“The Gangreen Gang?” Patricia repeated. She dabbed at her eyes and sized Alice up. “You-you're not defending them, are you?” 

“I am. Why do you ask?” Alice was secretly almost afraid of the answer. 

Patricia inhaled to compose herself better, then continued to speak. “Because they're criminals! Murderers! They don't deserve to be defended!” 

“Ma’am,” Alice began. “Everyone deserves to have a defence lawyer in court…”

“But they don't!” Patricia interrupted. Her voice raised in volume, still carrying that teary edge. “They are horrible people, if you could even call them that! They killed my husband! And you're no better! Defending them as if...as if they're innocent!” 

Alice’s back stiffened as straight as a board. “What did you just say-” 

“Enough,” Jack said sternly. He looked at Patricia. “They may be guilty, they may not be. Currently though, there's not enough evidence to convict them.” Then he looked at Alice. 

“Come with me, we should start working on their case. The sooner the better.” 

“Right. So, where's the Gangreen Gang?” 

“They're currently in a holding cell. Let's go, they'll be glad to see you.” 

And so they left, leaving a half-angry, half-sad Patricia Kendall by herself.


	4. Chapter 4

As it turns out, Alice didn't get to see the boys until a few days later. 

When she and Jack walked briskly down the hall of the police station, they were stopped by Janson and another policeman, Stevens, who had interrogated Grubber. 

Janson took a look at Alice and recognition flashed across his face. “You got your lawyers on us already, have you?” 

“No, Janson. She's going to be the Gang’s defence lawyer. In fact, we're going over to meet them right now.” 

“No, you're not.” Janson said as several more policemen emerged from unseen places and joined him and Stevens in the middle of the hallway. “Come on, they're criminals living at the scene of the crime, might I remind you. It's obvious they're guilty. Yet, you're so quick to defend them,” Janson got a nasty little smile on his face. “if anything, you might have something to do with it.” 

At this, Jack reached out to smack the shit-eating grin off of Janson’s face but Alice stopped him. When he saw this, Janson’s smile grew wider and he clicked his fingers. The other policemen stood side by side so they were blocking the hallway, then moved towards Alice and Jack so they were backing up, down the hallway, through the waiting room and out of the building. 

Alice’s arms sagged and she nearly dropped her suitcase. 

“I can't believe they're actively trying to prevent us from helping the Gang.” She said in disbelief. “That's just playing dirty!” 

Jack made a low growling noise in the back of his throat. “It appears as if they'll stop at nothing to put these boys behind bars even though there's no definitive proof of their guilt. But even so, I must agree that it is too early to tell whether they're lying or not, as police are still gathering evidence. But it is not too early to start working on their case. Come on. We're going to scrounge up every legal document and record we can find on them. We're going to use those records to help them in any way we can. We will not let the police win unless there is sufficient evidence to prove that the boys are guilty.” 

Alice fist-pumped the air. “Yes! That's the go-getter attitude I know and love!” 

“Then let's not waste any more time. Let's go.” Jack unlocked his car and motioned for Alice to join him in the front seat. 

“Right!” Alice said as she adjusted her seatbelt. “Alice Halcyon and Jack Wednesday, away!” 

Jack rolled his eyes. This woman was thirty-five and she still acted as childish as the day they had met. At least she had the good sense to stop jaywalking. 

Back in the holding cell, the Gangreen Gang were growing restless. They were nervous and fidgeting. Jack had promised them a lawyer, and he hadn't showed up yet. 

How long does it take to get ahold of a fricking lawyer, Ace thought. Jack hadn't even come by to check on us. He's probably ditched us, the bastard. 

His foot was still painful from when he kicked the wall, so he'd taken off his shoe and was laying his foot on the mattress to rest it. He rested his elbow on his leg and his face in his hand as he contemplated their next move. 

Billy kept asking what was happening and why they were being held in a prison when they hadn't done anything. Snake had given up trying to get the message through to him and was sitting, leaning up against the wall. His eyes were closed as if he were asleep. 

Grubber was still trying to explain the situation to Billy, as well as legal proceeding and what a lawyer was, and Billy was nodding like he was listening but didn't really understand. 

Arturo was still in the same position as before, and was absolutely silent. Ace hadn't heard a peep from him in ages. It was starting to get weirdly uncomfortable, so he spoke up. 

“Lil’ Arturo? Whassa matter, huh? Why you so quiet?” 

If Arturo heard him, he gave no sign of acknowledgement. 

“Hey,” Ace said, sharper this time. “I was talkin’ to ya. Now answer me.” 

The other three gang members turned their heads, but Arturo again didn't move. 

“Snake, go over there and slap him.” Ace ordered. 

That seemed to get Arturo’s attention. He lifted his head up and said “my Papi” in a tiny, upset voice before dropping his head. 

“What? Whachu say?” Ace asked, leaning in as close he could without moving his foot. 

Arturo raised his head again. “The officer who interrogated me, he recognised my name and said he knew my Papi. Papi, he speaks of me often, he tells others how much he loves me, how he wishes he wasn't in jail so he could be with me. And I hope he doesn't find out that I'm in jail also. It would break his heart.” And then, again, he dropped his head and buried his face into his knees. 

“Oh.” Ace should have figured it was something like that. Unlike the rest of the gang, Lil’ Arturo had parents who he cared about, and who cared about him in return. That always made Ace feel jealous, and even more unloved than he already felt. 

Not that he cared that he was unloved. How sad and sappy is that?


	5. Chapter 5

The media had a field day with the murder. 

“KENDALL KILLED!” “BRUTAL MURDER IN THE DUMP!” GANGREEN GANG SUSPECTED IN KENDALL KILLING!” the headlines screamed from the front pages of the newspapers the following morning, June the tenth. Residents across the city switched on their television to find the murder as the top story on the morning news. Kendall’s death was all the radio casts would talk about. 

It was an unwelcome change in the Utonium household. 

As the Professor bustled about the kitchen preparing pancakes (a special treat), Bubbles turned on the TV, hoping to settle down and watch some cartoons, but was instead met with news coverage after news coverage of the murder victim, how he was very wealthy and owned several successful car repair businesses, how he had a loving wife and doted on his four kids, how he had gone out to meet some old friends on the night of his death and never came back. Bubbles wanted to look away, cover her ears, but she couldn’t. The allure of wanting to know more about the victim was too strong. 

There was even a live interview with the newly widowed Patricia Kendall. She'd made the silly mistake of putting on makeup, because she had streams of mascara running down her cheeks. 

She responded to most questions by saying some pretty awful things about the Gangreen Gang in a weepy voice. She called them insult after disgusting insult that even Bubbles felt was a bit harsh. After listening to Patricia spout some words that Bubbles didn't recognise (but obviously meant something bad) the Professor, who had obviously overheard, came and switched the TV off. 

“That's enough. It's time for breakfast, Bubbles. Would you please come and help me set the table?” 

As Bubbles set out the plates and cutlery, one thought kept crossing her mind. 

Why would the Gangreen Gang kill Brian Kendall? 

In Jack Wednesday’s small monochrome apartment, he was switching his radio off. 

“I can't stand to hear that woman say something so vulgar about a group of children.” He said to no one in particular. 

“I'm a bit confused about your feelings for her. Do you hate her or just the things she's saying?” Alice asked from where she sat on the lumpy sofa surrounded by sheets of paper. 

“Both.” Jack responded grumpily. “I have never liked that woman. Not one bit. First she marries into money then flaunts it about like it’s hers. Always has to be the centre of attention, too. And let me tell you, nothing good can come out of that. She'll be setting her lawyers on us before too long, I'll bet. Like you said: everyone deserves to have a defence lawyer in court. But I'll bet she won't understand. In her mind they're guilty and she'll be determined to like those boys away for good. She'll ignore every shred of evidence even if it's proved without a doubt that they're innocent. People like her shouldn't have so much money to waste on a lawyer who just agrees with everything she says.” 

Alice blinked. “Okay wow, um, you really don't like her, do you?” 

“Never have, and I doubt I ever will.” 

The sofa and cheap wooden coffee table were covered in pages. Copies of birth certificates, immigration records, school documents and the like. Jack and Alice had gone through each and every single piece of paper and Alice was now in the process of organising them into piles based on the person they were about. She had nearly finished. Jack could see that Ace and Grubber’s piles were bigger than the rest, Snake and Billy’s were a little less big and Arturo’s might as well have been non-existent. 

Jack had learned an awful lot about the Gangreen Gang through those piles, and he hated it. It felt like he had pried open a window to their soul and peeked in at their deepest darkest secrets. 

On the top of Ace’s pile was a copy of his birth certificate, showing that he was indeed born on the twentieth of December. While he was born in Townsville, both his parents were from Citiesville, a place full of smog, crime and depravity. It almost seemed like foreshadowing when Jack had turned to the next few pages on the pile, which was a police report stating how a patrolling police car had picked up a then nine-year-old Ace Copular, who had run away from home. He was obviously injured, with bruises, a black eye and was walking with a slight limp as if his foot was sore. Despite these tell-tale signs that he was abused, the police had simply dropped him off back home with a warning to try and not run from home again. Jack had felt physically ill after reading that. Especially reading another report stating that Ace had escaped again a week later, but was not reported missing until a whole month had passed. Despite technically being a missing person, Ace was only ever brought into the police station when he was being arrested for something. He was never returned to his parents, but nor was he given a place to stay. The police evidently just didn't care about him. 

The rest of Ace’s pile was nothing but a history of arrests; he had quite an impressive rap sheet for someone so young. All of it was petty crimes: stealing, harassment, vandalisation, but nothing unnaturally violent such as murder. 

Big Billy’s pile was just pages upon pages documenting his stay in children’s homes and orphanages. One such home over in Villageville had found him as a baby, left on the the doorstep, and after that he had just been passed around like it was a game of pass-the-parcel. He didn’t even have a proper birthday; the home that found him had just put it as the twelfth of October, when he was found. And his name...dear god, they weren’t even trying. Billy had also had very little education as far as Jack could tell, if any at all; there was practically nothing about it. The last report was dated the February from three years ago, indicating that that was when he ran away. 

Grubber was born in March from fifteen years ago, under a name that Jack couldn't pronounce. He had lived in London, where he had had an extensive education. He had gone to an exclusive all-boys school where he had taken music lessons (violin, more specifically), horseback riding, croquet, all that typical upper middle class British stuff. After immigrating to Townsville four years ago, however, that had stopped altogether. While he was enrolled in the best school Townsville had to offer, he had never shown up for one single lesson. More disturbingly was a hospital report, dated two days before he was due to start at his new school. It stated how Grubber had had a fall, from which he suffered from head injuries, and his appearance and speech began to rapidly decline. That fall had knocked something the wrong way, clearly. A copy of the most recent census showed his parents were still living in Townsville, but after that there was nothing else. Jack made a mental note to himself to contact his parents so he could ask (read: yell) why they hadn't signed their son up for physical and speech therapy or why they hadn't reported him missing. 

Snake, aka Sanford D. Ingleberry was born into a rich family, and Jack had actually recognised their names. His father co-owned Townsville's most-bought newspaper and his mother was a popular model, very attractive despite the fact that she had given birth to two kids and had green skin. 

Snake was the only one in the gang who had any siblings. He and his sister had attended a boarding school out in the countryside, however he had a habit of ditching class and was frequently in trouble with administration for drug use. He was eventually expelled (for “inappropriate use of chemicals from the science laboratory”, whatever the hell that meant) and was sent back to Townsville, though he never actually arrived back at his home. A missing person report was issued, though it seemed his parents had given up on him completely, as neither they nor his sister had publicly begged for him to come home, and hadn't mentioned him since, as far as Jack could tell. 

Then, finally, Jack came to the youngest member of the gang. Arturo de la Guerra was born on the fifth of January in Zihuatanejo, Mexico. He and his father had immigrated to the United States when Arturo was about seven. He had attended school until the age of twelve, which was around the time his father was arrested for robbery and assault. Other than that, there was nothing else. Something odd, though, was the lack of a prison record. 

Jack knew, that after reading those sickening records and documents, he would never look at the Gangreen Gang the same way ever again. 

It appeared that all of them (with maybe the exception of Snake) were put in this situation because of elements beyond their control. They had turned to lives of petty crime because they didn't know what else to do. 

“Witnesses,” Alice said suddenly. 

Jack looked at her. 

She stared back at him. “Witnesses. I mean, we can track down people who know them. We can ask if they'd shown signs of violent behaviour that could turn into murder. Or not, you know. We can ask them to appear in court.” 

Jack nodded. “That's a good start. Because right now these documents do little to prove their innocence. If anything, it may make things worse. All it shows is that they haven't committed any crime more serious than harassment…” 

“Actually that's not entirely true.” 

“What?” 

“If things go south for us, we can drag CPS into this. All of these documents show that these boys had been failed by not just the police, but their own families and…” 

“CPS.” Jack finished. “I can see where you're going with this. Like you said, if things go south, we can prove that the murder wouldn't have happened if the police and CPS had been doing their jobs.” His voice had taken on a somber tone. “But let's start with the witnesses. Who do you want to talk to first?” 

Alice skimmed her eyes over the piles. “I'll do Sanford’s family.” 

Jack nodded. “I'll talk to Grubber’s parents, see if I can find out a bit more about this fall of his.” 

“It's sorted, then.” Alice said as she stood up and stretched her limbs. “I'll go up tomorrow, when I've sorted some stuff out. But now I'm going to go home and have a nap and something to eat. I'm dead tired. And hungry.” 

Jack rolled his eyes. “Well, I'm going today. Right now, actually. Give me Grubber’s documents and I'll be on my way.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, June eleventh, after Alice had spent the previous day doing some jobs around the house that desperately needed to be done (as well as arranging things for the case), she packed pens and paper into her suitcase, hopped in her car, and drove all the way across the city into the richer suburbs of Townsville. 

When she reached her destination, 112 Aurum Street, a man holding an umbrella was standing behind the gates, waiting for her. He pressed a hidden button on the stone wall and the gates swung open. Alice drove through them and up a gravel driveway before stopping outside the steps leading to the front door. She parked her car as she spat out her mint-flavoured gum into a tissue and double-checked her hair in the mirror. The time on the dashboard read 10:34 AM. 

Alice darted up the front steps through the rain, her heels clicking on the marble, until she reached the door. As she raised one hand to knock, she noticed a knocker protruding from the mouth of a marble lion. And as she reached out to grab it, she saw a doorbell. She humorously rolled her eyes to herself as she rang it. 

The doorbell had barely finished tolling when a young woman dressed in an almost stereotypical maid outfit answered the door. She looked up at Alice nervously fiddling with her hair, then down at her feet before stepping aside.

“You must be that lawyer who called. Come this way please, Mr and Mrs Ingleberry are waiting for you.” 

Alice had giggled herself to sleep the previous night over the surname, but now, about to enter their lavish family home, she didn’t so much as crack a smile. 

The walls were panelled a dark oak, as was the floor, which was covered in vibrantly-coloured rugs. The oak made the hallway, which already didn’t have windows, look even darker and claustrophobic. How was anyone supposed to see? 

There were a few side tables holding the usual ceramic jugs and plates, and very few pictures hung on the wall. What few there were showed nature scenes, one with a forest with a mossy tree in the foreground, and another with a cornfield being guarded by a legitimately freaky scarecrow. However, there was a family portrait hanging on the wall next to a doorway. Mr and Mrs Ingleberry, and two small kids. All wore looks of either boredom or intense seriousness. 

The maid motioned for Alice to stop, before she went into the room and cleared her throat. 

“The lawyer is here.”

“Send her in.”

The maid nodded at Alice, who stopped playing with her hair and entered the room. 

This room had wide windows stretching from one end to the other offering a view of the tidy, well-kept garden that was now being soaked by the rain. In the centre of the room was a Persian rug, a low coffee table and two floral-patterned sofas facing each other. On one of these sofas sat two of the richest people in Townsville. 

That family portrait outside the room must have been taken at least ten years ago, yet Mr Ingleberry looked like he hadn't aged at all. He even had the same expression, serious and tight-lipped. His glasses almost seemed to magnify his cold eyes as they practically bore into Alice’s soul. 

Mrs Ingleberry looked a good decade or two younger than her husband, but no less tense. It didn't quite suit her face, which has definitely been altered by plastic surgery. It was pretty obvious is one were to compare older images of her with newer ones. Her nose wasn't quite as prominent and her cheekbones appeared more hollow, among other small details. 

Alice felt very, very out of place with her stringy hair and her tights, in which she had discovered a run along her knee as she was driving earlier. Rich people ate those like her alive. The fact that she was a lawyer didn't help. 

Mr Ingleberry extended a hand in a chilly greeting. “Welcome, Mrs Halcyon…” 

“Actually it's just Ms Halcyon…” Alice corrected. 

“Right. Ms Halcyon. Please take a seat. I'm sure you'll want to know all about that wretched son of ours.” The words were full of malice. It made Alice concerned about these peoples feelings for their own child, but also made her a little pissed that he spoke her name that way. He made it sound like being a single woman of her age was a bad thing. But she swallowed those feelings and pulled out her paper and pens. 

“Yes, I would like to know more about him.” She said, trying to make herself seem confident and in control of the situation. “Now, I'm sure you know he's about to be arrested for murder?” 

Mr Ingleberry nodded. “Yes, and I can't say I'm surprised. He has always been a troublemaker, ever since he was old enough to walk.” 

“He was a little terror. He's traumatised his poor sister something awful.” Mrs Ingleberry added. “We once had three nannies quit within the space of two months because they just couldn't handle him.” 

“So, do you think he was violent enough to the point of murdering someone?” Alice asked. 

“I certainly wouldn't put it past him.” Mrs Ingleberry said. 

“He really has gone too far this time. He's tarnished the family name for good!” Mr Ingleberry slammed his fist suddenly on the coffee table before just as suddenly resuming his sitting position on the sofa. He then turned to his wife. “That's it Mirabelle, we’re cutting him out of our will.” 

Alice's heart sank with a sense of dread and foreboding. That was this kid’s parents off the table as potential witnesses in their case. 

“Do you know any good lawyers that could help us with that?” Mr Ingleberry asked. 

The question both shocked and sickened her. “Erm, no, not really.” 

The man made a “hrrumph” sound. “Well, that's too bad.” 

After some more questions, Alice learned about Sanford’s pyrotechnic phase as a kid. She learned about how he had often tormented his sister, Samira, by catching bugs and hiding them in her room, or pushing and shoving her so hard she got bruises. She learned that he was notorious at his prestigious boarding school for drinking, drug use and ditching class. She learned exactly what got him expelled (stealing sodium and dumping it in the toilet, which exploded). She learned that they didn't even recall filing a missing persons report because they felt he didn't deserve to come home after the sodium incident. His parents were certain he was capable of murder, and didn't seem like they could be convinced otherwise. 

By the time she left, it was nearly twelve o'clock. She'd written pages and pages detailing this kid’s various crimes and exploits. None of which seemed like it could help him in the slightest. 

She disliked the Ingleberrys immensely. It seemed to her that these issues could have been avoided had Sanford been parented properly. It appeared that the kids had just been handed off to nanny after nanny for their entire childhoods. Nannies are supposed to mind the children, not raise them. 

Alice had been wanting to speak to Sanford’s sister, Samira. But, as it turns out, she wasn't in the house. 

“I'd sent her away for the day,” Mrs Ingleberry had said. “Poor darling girl can't stand it when we mention her brother. It brings back horrible memories for her.” 

Alice drove through the rain until she came to the exit leading to the Townsville mall. Almost on cue, her stomach began to rumble. 

Alright, time for lunch. 

Some minutes later Alice was wandering through the mall heading towards the food court. The mall seemed to have expanded heaps since the last time she was here, but it certainly had in the twenty-odd years since she's been a teenager searching for the hottest new clothes. 

The food court was bustling. There were so many people that Alice wasn't sure where the line for the Mexican place started. So she just stood awkwardly by the counter until a worker noticed her. 

Once she had her food, she searched around for a table and finally found a fairly secluded but empty corner of a booth that stretched from one end of the food court to the other. There she sat, eating her burrito and scrolling through her phone, debating whether or not she should call Jack and discuss the case in the middle of a crowded area until some snippets of conversation caught her attention. 

“Oh God, I am soooo hungry!” 

“Same!” 

“Can we go look at shoes after? I'm dying for some new shoes.” 

“So am I, Samira. So am I.” 

Samira. 

Alice spoke before she could stop herself. “Samira? Samira Ingleberry?” 

It was a group of three or four teenage girls. Normal, skinny jeans-wearing, gum-chewing, phone-obsessed teenage girls. One of them had green skin and tidy black hair. She narrowed her eyes at Alice. “Who’s asking?” 

Alice swallowed, feeling a little intimidated. “Um, I'm a defence lawyer. I was just talking to your parents this morning. They told me they'd sent you out of the house for the day.” 

A flash of recognition crossed the girl’s face. She turned to her friends. 

“Hey, you guys go on ahead and eat and I'll catch up to yous later. I need to talk to her.” 

“Sure.” One of the girls flipped her wavy brown hair and led the others away. 

Samira slid into the chair across from Alice’s booth. “So you're the one who's been asking about my brother.” 

“Yes. I'm sure you've heard he's been accused of the recent murder?” 

“Uh huh. Personally I think the police have got the wrong guys.” 

Alice's eyes widened. “Really? I thought you'd be convinced of his guilt, seeing how horrible he was to you…”

“Mother and Father been telling lies, have they?” Samira shook her head, laughing. “Nah, Snake and I were cool. I mean yeah, he did do some mean stuff to me when we were kids, but that was just normal stupid sibling stuff. My friends brothers are like that.” 

“Are you trying to tell me that your parents were just exaggerating all the bad stuff he did?” 

“Yeah. Well, I mean, I dunno exactly what they said to you but…” Samira got a more serious look on her face. She almost looked like her father. “My parents have this weird fixation on the idea that my brother was a monster to me and I hated him.” 

“Do you know why they'd lie?” Alice had whipped out her trusty pen and paper, and was taking notes. 

“They hated him, and I mean really hated him. I guess they're upset because I don't hate him and they want to make him out as this irredeemable person that no one likes, not even a little bit. But that's just my theory. They never told me why they lied. They always just brushed me off when I asked.” Samira shrugged. 

“Have you ever seen your brother since he ran away? And have you observed anything odd it bad about his behaviour?” 

“I see him around every once in a while. We don't really hang around the same areas. Sometimes we wave to each other, sometimes we say hi, but that's it. And no, I haven't seen any strange behaviour. He's always moping around.” 

“What about his friends?”

“Same thing.” 

“So you don’t believe that your brother and his friends are guilty?”

“That's right.” 

Alice put her pen down. She put one hand on Samira’s. 

“Samira Ingleberry, would you be willing to appear in court as a witness in your brother’s case?”

Samira shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I dunno. I want to, but I seriously doubt my parents will let me.” 

“They can't stop you. If you've agreed and they do try to stop you, they're breaking the law. They could be charged with withholding evidence, aka you.” 

Samira’s eyes widened. “Yikes. But, in that case, yes, I'll appear in court.” She then gave a small shaky smile. 

Alice smiled back. “Great! I'm eternally grateful, and I think your brother will be, too. Now, if I could just have your contact details…” 

Ten minutes later, after Samira had written down her phone number then left to join her friends, Alice was sitting in the privacy of her car, where no one could overhear her phone call to Jack. 

“Guess what?” She squealed excitedly. “Sanford’s sister’s agreed to testify in court!” 

“Good.” There was no cheer in Jack’s voice. 

Alice calmed herself. “Is everything okay?”

“No. The meeting with Grubber’s parents did not go well at all.” 

“What happened?” 

Meanwhile, in the holding cell, Ace and Grubber were both asleep. There was really nothing else to do but sleep for as long as possible. The other three were still awake, having been out cold for hours and could sleep no more. They say together in the corner, talking quietly amongst themselves and listening to the rain pattering on the roof. 

“Uh, what's a lawyer, again?” Big Billy asked for the umpteenth time. 

“Sssomeone who’ss not coming to help usss.” Snake sighed defeatedly. 

“But Ace said-” 

“I know what he sssaid, but it'ss been a couple of dayss and no one has ssshowed up. Forget it. We ain't ever getting of thiss one.” 

“Never getting out?” Billy's eyes began to fill with tears. Snake, who didn't notice, responded even more aggressively. 

“Yess, becausse no one fucking caresss about uss enough to help uss, and we're going to go to jail and we’re never getting out!” 

That was enough for Billy to burst into tears. Arturo shouted at Snake “nice going, amigo” above the wailing before trying to comfort Billy. 

The noise woke up the two sleeping gang members, and Ace, still feeling fuzzy-headed from his nap, yelled profanities and threats of violence at whoever had interrupted his sleep. 

The chaos ended abruptly when a police officer slammed both fists on the cell door and screamed at them to be quiet. It was enough to startle Billy out of his teary tirade, and Ace fell back on the mattress with a moan. 

When the officer left and all was quiet again, Billy sniffled, eye still streaming. “Ace?” he asked. 

“What?” 

“Does no one like us?” 

Ace stiffened, and covered his face with his hands. He didn't know if he could bring himself to tell Billy the truth, especially after he disturbed the whole police station with his tears. Big Billy had such a big heart. The truth would crush him. So would prison.


	7. Chapter 7

“”He ran off”, they said. He had started speaking in tongue and made threatening gestures, so they thought he was dangerous.” Jack said with absolute disdain. He was, of course, talking about Grubber’s parents. He had spoken to them that day and was now relaying what had happened to Alice over the phone. 

Alice cleared her throat. “So are you saying that Grubber possibly has an undiagnosed mental illness triggered by his accident? And his parents are against that somehow…?” 

Jack grunted an affirmative. “I think they're also embellishing everything. That speaking in tongue bullshit is obviously untrue. He can't speak at all. He communicates through raspberries. But nevertheless, they refused to appear in court as witnesses. Actually, they showed me the door when I asked.” 

“Well, I think Sanford’s parents were also either stretching the truth or flat out lying. I spoke to his sister, and she told me that they make him out to be even more worse than he actually is. And she agreed to be a witness in court.” 

“Good,” was the reply. 

“Okay, uh, I guess I'll go and talk to Arturo’s father. In prison.” Alice said, glancing at her suitcase. 

“Fine. I will find Ace’s parents, then.” And then Jack hung up. 

Alice turned the key in the ignition and strapped on her seatbelt. She pulled out of the mall parking lot and turned down a side road leading to Townsville Prison. 

Jack, meanwhile, got into his own car and headed for the last known address of the Copular family. 

As soon as he had seen the address on a form he already felt dread growing in his stomach. The street was not in a good neighbourhood, to say the least. It was basically the Citiesville of Townsville, to say the least. 

As he pulled up outside the house, he felt actual pity for Ace. Any child would turn to a life of crime if this was the kind of environment they were born into. 

The yard was overrun with weeds, which also sprouted through the cracks of the rotting wooden porch. The windows were dusty and the paint on the walls was chipped and peeling. Just like every other damn house on the street. In the rain however, it looked more dismal. 

As Jack got out of his car and ran up the path he nearly stumbled after his foot got caught on a piece of concrete that was jutting out of the ground. When he reached the porch, he carefully stepped over the second step, as it was broken in the middle, like something heavy had landed on it and snapped it in half. 

There was no need to knock on the door, a green-skinned person with dark eyes and messy, knotted hair was already there, watching Jack through slitted eyes. The person sized him up, looked him in the eyes and said with a raspy voice, “what's that piece of shit done this time?” 

“I beg your pardon?” Jack asked. 

“Yous police, right?” 

“Truant officer.” 

The person rolled their eyes and exclaimed “aw, fuck!” They turned into the house and shouted “Apriiiil! The bastards has sent CPS or some shit on our asses!” 

“Fuck’s sake!” A more feminine sounding voice called back. 

“Whaddya want? He ain't here anymore!” The man turned his attention back to Jack. 

“I know he's not there, but I have to talk to you about him. He's been accused of murder.” 

“Hah, really? Who'd he off?” 

It took Jack a second to realise that he was asking who had been killed. “A man named Brian Kendall. It's been all over the news.” 

“Hear that, April? Our good-for-nothin’ whatever he is finally did somethin’ with his life! Hah!” The man yelled sarcastically over his shoulder, then turning to Jack. 

“I came here to ask if you and your wife would be willing to appear in court to defend…”

“Like hell we would,” the man interrupted. “He was a bloody wimp, always whinin’, always bitchin’ and cryin’. He was always hangin’ on us for attention or some shit, even though we gave him plenty. He was the worst Christmas present I ever got, and my old man used to give me empty fuckin’ beer cans. Him fucking off was the best thing he ever did, and he's done nothin’ to deserve is helpin’ him. Ain't that right, April?” 

Jack was disgusted. He grabbed the man by his shirt and lifted him up as high as he could. 

“You listen to me. You and your wife disgust me. You have abused and mistreated your son and you practically pat yourselves on the back for it. He runs away and you don't care. He is going on trial for murdering someone and you still don't care. The only reason your asses aren't in jail for child abuse is because no one else cares. That's it. You mistreated a child for all his life. You don't deserve to be a free man and woman. Your son deserved better than you.” 

The man spit in his face. 

Jack let go of him to wipe it off and the man took the opportunity to wrench himself out of his grasp. 

“Fuck you! You don't know who you're talkin’ to!” The man marched back inside and slammed the door, and that was the end of that. 

The prison felt comparatively lighter and nicer than the police station, Alice thought. Probably because the people here weren't as cruel and unreasonable. The prisoners she saw on the drive up were actually having conversations with the guards and seemed to enjoy it. Well, seemed to. But it was a nice chance from police officers throwing their weight around. 

Arturo de la Guerra, known to everyone as Macho, sat on the opposite side of a sheet of glass, holding the telephone. 

“My son is a good boy,” he was saying. “He would never murder someone. Never.” 

Alice nodded, and scribbled something down on a piece of paper. “How was he in school?” 

Macho shrugged. “He was okay. He wasn't great, he just did his work.” 

Alice made an “mmhm” noise, but the question of why his son was on the streets at the age of twelve with no adult supervision couldn't be avoided. So she asked. 

“His Mami, my partner, she passed before we immigrated. My son, he doesn't even remember her.” Macho’s face fell as he said this. 

Alice gave a sympathetic expression. “Has your son displayed any temper problems, or violent outbursts?” 

“No. Not once that I can remember.” 

Alice brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Would you be allowed to appear in court as a witness?” 

Macho was all too eager to agree. 

Later, Alice found herself talking to one of the guards while she waited for the prison warden to approve Macho’s appearing in court. 

“He's an alright dude.” The guard said about Macho. “Actually, most people are. But yeah, you still gotta watch yourself here. There are some pretty fucked up individuals, and they like to travel in packs. One dude tried to stab another one in the eyes with a fork. The Gangreen Gang ain't gonna survive five minutes in here.” 

Alice nodded. “Is Macho, you know, trustworthy?” 

“Yeah, one of the more honest guys in here. Just made some dumb mistakes. And he really loves his son, you know. Talks about him all the time.” 

Just then, the prison warden showed up. 

“Right, Miss Halcyon, you've got approval. Luckily Macho’s one of our more docile inmates, so not much need for extra precautions, but still be careful. Just be in touch with the court dates and we’ll send him over for you.” 

“Thank you so much.” Alice said as she shook his hand. “This'll ready help my case.” 

Back in Townsville, the Powerpuff Girls played in their bedroom. Buttercup crashed her toy cars into each other, Blossom carefully stacked her books atop one another to create towers, and Bubbles lay on her side of the bed, hugging Octi close to her as she stared out at the rain drizzling down the window pane. They played without enjoyment or interest. 

Everytime she blinked, Bubbles saw the same scene over and over again: the body lying on its back, throat half-gone, congealed blood in a dark pool. 

The Professor had told the girls that he had scheduled for them to visit a therapist, so they could talk to him about the whole incident. The appointment was set for tomorrow at ten o'clock. 

Bubbles still felt so numb. She had spoken very little over the last few days. She didn't know if she could bring herself to talk to a therapist; she had trouble trying to discuss it with her sisters. It all seemed like a weird lucid dream that she hoped to wake up from. 

What if the therapist just didn't understand what she was feeling? What if she didn't say anything to him at all? How would he react? Would he still try to help her if he didn't understand? 

Bubbles squeezed Octi closer to her chest and listened to the sounds of Buttercup’s metal toy cars clinking together, and the rain falling softly outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my new blog: briesuniverse.blogspot.com


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just so everyone has a heads up: I'm going to be staying with a relative for the year while I attend a polytechnic institute, however I don't know if there will be Wifi up there, so I don't know when I'll be able to upload new chapters, as this course I'm doing is for the whole year starting next week. Sorry for any inconvenience.

“Just got the coroner’s report.” Janson said as he leaned with one arm resting on the reinforced glass door of the holding cell. The Gangreen Gang stared at him suspiciously, not trusting the smirk on his face. 

“His throat was cut, dead around eleven. Couple of you own blades, don't you?” His gaze shifted from Ace, then to Arturo, who clutched his comb tightly. 

“She's not a blade.” He said through clenched teeth. 

Janson waved him off. “Whatever. Anyway, he'd been beaten up pretty bad before he died. You like to do that to anyone who gets too close to your “home”, don't you? I've seen you around. I know you get up to some shady shit. So just admit it: you killed him. Just admit it and we’ll go easy on you.” 

Ace spat on the door, where Janson’s face was. “Piss off. Go find someone else to annoy, ‘cause we ain't done nothin’.” 

Janson was ready to fling open the door and sock the insolent little punk in the face, but another police officer called out, “leave it, Janson. He's not worth it.” 

Janson pulled away and stalked out of the room. As the other officer followed, Ace could have sworn he heard him say “none of them are…” 

Samira didn't like this at all. This whole situation was fucked from the start. 

Ever since her brother and his loser friends got arrested for murder, she'd been getting looks from passersby. Some were weird. Most were dirty and angry. She knew why. It was because of her green skin. They probably thought that she was a murderer too. 

Too? 

Samira shook her head. No way would her brother do something like that. He was a dumb shit, but not to that despicable a level. 

Come on, Samira! You're not here for that. You're here to pick up some more sweets, so you can lie awake and eat them while curling your hair and worrying about everything in your life! Sweets are better to bite than your nails! 

She was about to enter the dairy when she heard someone call out “Snake?!” 

She turned. It was the Powerpuff Girls and their Professor. 

Blossom, who had called out, looked taken aback when she saw her face. “Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were Snake.” 

“No. I'm his sister, Samira.” 

“Snake has a sister?” Buttercup asked, looking confused. 

“Let's move along girls, or we’ll be late for our appointment…” The Professor said, ushering them away, as he gave Samira an indifferent look. 

Bubbles too was staring, though it seemed as if though it was out of curiosity. 

Samira sighed. She'd better hurry up and get indoors. It was about to start raining again. 

The rain began falling again as Alice pulled into her driveway, coming back from the inner city after doing some grocery shopping and sorting out some things at the firm where she worked. She felt tired and drained and was ready to take a nice, long bath then collapse into bed and hopefully never wake up. 

When she ran inside with her arms full of documents and paper bags, she stole a glance at the clock on the wall. It read 10:45. It was still morning, yet Alice felt like the entire day had passed her by. 

She pulled out her cellphone and flipped it open. No new messages. 

She hadn't yet switched on the lights, so her house felt stone cold. The rain outside added an extra layer of grey darkness that seemed very uninviting. 

This can't be summertime. It's far too dreary. 

Alice sighed and her whole body sagged. 

Then her phone rang, startling her and she dropped everything she was holding, including her phone. She picked it up and answered it. 

“I don't suppose you've heard.” Jack said, brushing past the hellos. 

“Heard what?” Alice asked, pressing her phone in between her ear and shoulder as she started gathering up her belongings. 

“First of all, the coroner's report has been released, and second of all Patricia Kendall has hired Effie Jordan…”

“Shit!” Alice exclaimed as she nearly dropped the phone again. Effie Jordan was a brilliant lawyer; young, intelligent and very snobby. She knew how to explain away anything that could make her clients lose the case. 

On the other end of the line, Jack nodded gravely. “There's nothing to prove their guilt. But there's nothing yet that proves their innocence. We have to look harder. Starting immediately.” 

Alice's plans of a bath and nap would have to wait. There were more important things to take care of. Namely: not letting Patricia Kendall and Effie Jordan win.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> False alarm: the Wifi's perfectly fine here!

Ace remembered something that had happened between him and Arturo. It was a couple of years ago, a few days after Arturo’s father was arrested and the little guy had started living with the Gangreen Gang. 

Ace had woken up in the middle of the night to find Arturo in bed with him, clinging to his chest. Obviously, he was still shaken up over everything that had happened recently, and was longing for some human comfort. 

Ace didn't really care about that at that moment, and when he let out a shout of surprise and anger, Arturo woke up as well and sat bolt upright. He began to apologise but was drowned out by Ace yelling at him to get the hell out of his bed and find someone else to snuggle with. 

Arturo got out and dejectedly went over to Snake, who had also had his sleep disturbed by the commotion. Snake shook his head, and so Arturo went over to Big Billy and crawled under the covers. Billy was still half asleep, but didn't seem to mind his new cuddle buddy, as he draped an enormous arm over Arturo’s tiny body. 

Ace had just randomly remembered it now, as he lay on the mattress on his back, staring up at the drab ceiling of the holding cell, Lil’ Arturo curled up asleep in the crook of his arm. He could feel his arm begin to tingle with the first warnings signs of getting pins and needles, but he wasn't about to make Arturo move. It made him feel a little heartless. 

And, secretly, Ace wanted the contact. It brought a feeling to his heart; a feeling he hadn't felt in years. The feeling that he was needed. 

Arturo looked up to him as a surrogate father. Ace’s own parents could go fuck themselves. They'd screwed him up beyond repair. It was clear that Ace was not suitable for that kind of role. And yet…

It was probably just because he was the leader, the boss, the decision-maker, Ace reasoned with himself. 

But he didn't expect the job description to include being a cuddle pillow for everyone. He didn't feel up to this. He wasn't quite used to giving emotional comfort, especially when he needed it himself. 

He briefly wished that he was a small child again, so that he could let all his thoughts and tears out and the adults would listen and soothe him, instead of just mocking him because everyone knows that teenage boys don't cry…

Ace’s legs were getting pretty sore, too. Snake was using his ankles as a pillow of sorts, his long dark hair tickling Ace’s bare skin. But Ace decided not to kick him off either. 

All of these thoughts were a nice change than hypothesising prison life. 

Bubbles was the only one who wasn't eating, even though the Professor had bought fish and chips, a rare and special treat. Buttercup was shovelling chips into her mouth ravenously, and Blossom was eating too, albeit a lot slower than normal. 

“Is everything okay with your food, Bubbles? You love fish and chips.” The Professor said, concerned. 

Bubbles spoke her first full sentence for the day. “I'm not hungry.” Her stomach rumbled just then, but she didn't feel any pangs. The rumbling seemed more like shivering. She ignored it and got down from the table. 

“Bubbles…” The Professor began before letting his words trail off hopelessly. Her spark and joy had all but disappeared. 

He noticed that Blossom and Buttercup had stopped eating as well. They looked at Bubbles’ retreating back, then at the Professor, who buried his face in his hands. 

The therapy hadn't quite gone as planned. Blossom and Buttercup had opened up quickly about their feelings, but Bubbles stayed silent. 

Bubbles just couldn't figure out how to put her swirling emotions into words so that they could be understood. She'd never felt so lost before. Her heart ached for Mr Kendall, his wife and four kids, one of whom was in her kindergarten. 

But a tiny portion of her heart, the very bottom of her heart, also felt pity for the Gangreen Gang. Once, a few months ago, the Professor was reading an article in the paper about a sixteen year old boy who had just been arrested in the northern suburbs for stalking and breaking and entering, and the Professor had made an off-hand remark about how “a teenager in prison is very sad to hear about”. And that's where she suspected this minuscule amount of sympathy came from. 

But how could she explain that to the therapist? He might think that she was on their side and that they deserved to go free, even though they are criminals. He might hate her for that. 

Not to mention the fact that she just couldn't get the images of the crime scene out of her head. She knew he was trying to help her move past it, but it wasn't working. 

And so Bubbles had kept her mouth shut tight, only opening it to cry loudly when she felt the weight of her thoughts crushing her. But even then she did not speak. And eventually she was dismissed. 

She hoped that the Professor wasn't upset with her for not talking.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the late update. I just started a new cookery course and it's insane and eating up my time faster than I eat Big Macs at McDonalds.

“Hello boys,” Alice said, hoping that her voice didn't give away how little sleep she got last night. At long last, she was finally meeting her clients, the Gangreen Gang, who all crowded around the other side of the table, staring at her intently. They were in her office at the firm where she worked. Also in the room was Jack Wednesday, who kept eyeing the police officer who was there to make sure the gang didn't try and pull anything (though, in reality, the officer was ignoring his duties in favour of listening to his Walkman with headphones on, hopefully giving the others a bit of privacy). Two more officers were waiting outside the door and the tension in the room was high. 

“Finally, we meet at last.” Ace said sarcastically. 

Alice ignored him. “You're here today so we can work on your case. Now, I believe you're being falsely accused…”

“No shit.” 

...and so you're gonna have to be honest with me. You didn't get up to anything illegal that night, did you?” 

“Nah. We only graffitied the subway.” 

Alice sighed. “Well, you'll probably get booked for that, you know, but as long as it's not murder.” 

“Now you listen here, toots,” Ace began. “We didn't murder him, and hell, we ain't even seen him before. So you get us out of this, and don't act like you're above us…” 

“First of all, I'm thirty-five and you're seventeen, I'm too old for you, so don't call me toots,” Ace blushed a little as the others snickered. “And second of all, I can get you out of this. I will get you out of this. Imprisoning the innocent is just as bad as letting the guilty go free.” 

Grubber blew a raspberry that sounded like an agreement. 

“And I just want to discuss some things with you, things that confused me and I just want to figure them out.” Alice then focused on Arturo. “I presume you're Arturo de la Guerra?” 

The teen looked at her warily, as if he thought she was going to scold him. “Sí.” 

“I just want to know something. I know you've all committed crimes at one point or another. I've seen it with my own eyes. And all of you have criminal records…” Alice paused briefly as she gazed around the room before returning to Arturo. “...except you. Why is that?” 

Arturo looked at Ace, who looked at Snake, who looked at Grubber, who looked at Big Billy, who looked back and waved, saying “hello!” 

Alice wrinkled her nose in confusion. “Um, what?” 

Ace turned to her, took a deep breath, and began to speak. “Well, his old man’s heart would break if Arturo ever ended up in prison. So,” He hid his face, as if what he was about to say next was humiliating. “We covered for him.” 

Alice leaned forward in her seat. “You covered for him? As in, took all the blame for his crimes so he wouldn't go to jail and upset his father…” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Well, how about that!” Jack said, speaking up for the first time. That had actually blindsided him. Never in a million years would he have guessed that a demonstration of almost brotherly love was the reason behind the lack of a criminal record. It just goes to show that there was still a lot to learn about the Gangreen Gang. 

Alice was touched. She couldn't stop that smile on her face, until she began talking again. “So, me and Jack spoke with all of your parents…” 

“Ya spoke to my parents, eh?” Ace said, intrigued. 

“I didn't personally, but Jack did.” 

“Uh-huh.” He turned to face the truant officer. “My old man spit on ya?” 

Jack was a little blindsided by the question. “Yes, he did.” 

“Did he tell ya how I'm a whiny brat who doesn't deserve nothin’?” 

“Yes.” 

“Figures.” Ace sniffed, but whether it was an indifferent sniff or he was trying to hide the tears that began to creep into his voice, Jack couldn't tell. But since Snake reached over to pat his back, he figured it was the latter. 

“...and we asked all of your parents if they were willing to appear in court as witnesses. Unfortunately, it was a no from everyone except Arturo’s father and Snake’s sister.” 

Snake sat bolt upright. “What? Sssamira’ss gonna be a witnesss?” 

“Mm-hm.” 

“Man, if it weren't for your sister, then your parents would have skinned you alive by now!” Ace chuckled. 

Grubber let out a couple of raspberries and the whole gang began howling with laughter. 

“Shush!” Yelled the policeman in the corner. “I can't hear my music!” 

For some reason that just made the gang laugh even louder. 

Alice rolled her eyes as she fished a few pieces of paper out of her briefcase. “Right, boys, now I'm going to read you your rights…” 

“Is this satisfactory, Mrs Kendall?” The employee asked delicately, trying to avoid offence. The poor woman had just lost her husband to a violent gang, she didn't need to be any more upset. 

Patricia gazed up at the obelisk-shaped headstone. It was at least a good few feet taller than her and was made of smooth and shiny black marble. At eye level was the inscription: 

BRIAN OSCAR KENDALL

27 AUGUST 1959 - 8 JUNE 2001 

LOVING HUSBAND, DOTING FATHER

Patricia sniffed loudly and the employee of the funeral home stood awkwardly; should he offer he a tissue? Or did she already have one? Would she be offended at a potential offer, or not? Being in the presence of one of the richest women in Townsville was daunting. 

But just then Patricia whipped a tissue out of her purse and pawed at her eyes with it. 

“Yes...yes, it's beautiful. But what about the plot?” 

“It's being dug as we speak, ma’am. And the flowers are being arranged too.” 

“Good. I'll pay for the headstone now.” She took out a wad of cash and dropped it in one of the employee’s outstretched hands, and the used tissue in the other before heading out, heels clicking loudly, as the employee sighed and briefly considered finding another job.


	11. Chapter 11

As if the Gangreen Gang didn't already feel like every news camera was practically being shoved up every orifice in their faces, the discovery of a small steel knife the following morning certainly made things worse. 

The knife was found by a morning jogger. It was lying partially concealed under a tussock of grass on the side of the highway just outside the city. It was still bloody. Forensic analysis yielded two partial fingerprints. It was quickly determined to be the murder weapon, as there were still flakes of dried blood on the edge that matched that of Brian Kendall. 

That morning, the Gangreen Gang was quickly whisked out of the holding cell and into separate interrogation room, where they were shown pictures of the knife. 

“Not mine.” Ace said boldly. 

“Then whose could it be?” Janson asked. 

“Dunno, but it don't belong to me or the boys.” 

Their fingerprints were lifted and given to the crime lab for comparison, and the results were given the next day. 

“Neither of them appear to match,” the lab assistant said. “But it's hard to say for certain, since they're only partial prints. Ace’s appear to be the closest match, but it's nothing concrete. Your guess is as good as mine.” 

Janson grumbled, and so did the police chief. 

That same day, Alice met Effie Jordan and Patricia Kendall at the law firm. It was not a pleasant meeting. Alice called Jack later in the afternoon to tell him some news. 

“A court date’s been set,” she said. “Twenty-first of June. We'd better start really putting our heads down and sorting this out.” 

Jack jotted a note in his daily planner. “Right then. I will go and check on the boys. I will call you later with any updates.” He hung up then, got in his old grey Toyota and headed towards the police station. 

When he got there and looked into their cell, he saw Big Billy chowing down on the sub-par prison food off of dingy metal trays. The other four were sitting in a circle in the corner. 

“Boys.” Jack said. Everyone turned their heads. “The court date is set for the twenty-first. You need to start preparing.” 

They all glanced over at Billy, who was making one hell of a ruckus trying to eat his cheap crumbed chicken. 

“That soon?” Ace asked. 

“Yes. So you have to start really trying to convince people of your innocence.” 

“But we have been!” 

“It's not good enough. Try being calm, respectful. I'll be coming back tomorrow to collect you.” And then Jack left. 

The gang looked at each other. 

“Ssso, calm and resspectful.” Snake said. 

Ace shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I guess it's time to give it a shot.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the trial! I hope you enjoy this, I worked really hard on it!

The twenty-first of June came very quickly, it seemed, and just as rainy as ever. It did seem as if the weather could sense the somber mood, as the clouds appeared a smoky grey as opposed to the lighter shade it was before. 

Alice observed this as she stood in her kitchen, finishing up a cup of coffee. She stared unblinking out the window until it became too much to bear and she turned away. She put her empty mug in the sink and pulled on her coat. She inspected her reflection in the small mirror by the coat rack, and fluffed her hair out a little bit. 

Time for the biggest trial of her career. 

In his small apartment deep in the city centre, Jack made sure everything was spick and span before leaving. As he sat behind the steering wheel of his car and pulled into the street, his face assumed a stoic but pinched expression. 

The futures of these boys will be determined today. They couldn't afford a screw-up. 

Speaking of whom, the atmosphere inside the holding cell of the Gangreen Gang was silent and discomforting. Snake twiddled his thumbs in the corner. Arturo mindlessly, slowly brushed his hair out. Grubber was trying to make himself look more presentable for the court, but there wasn't exactly much he could do besides comb his hair (after coercing Arturo to give up Maria for a few minutes). Big Billy was whimpering quietly. And Ace was sitting on the mattress, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his balled-up hands. 

Not that he would admit it, but he was scared. Really scared. The thought of going to prison - real actual prison, not just the police station - gave him a horrible feeling of dread deep in the pit of his stomach. It pressed down on his ribs, restricting his breathing. He couldn't imagine feeling like this in prison every day, afraid of what the new day would bring, surrounded by full-grown adults with more tougher attitudes, more skill and experience, and more meat on their bones. 

He hoped to God that wouldn't happen. 

At the courthouse, Alice peeked inside the brightly-lit wood-panelled room. The jury were already seated, and the peanut gallery was filling up quickly. Virtually every man and his talking dog had come to see what would probably be the most infamous trial in the city’s history. Her stomach did a somersault. It then did a quarter-turn backflip with a twist dive when she spotted Effie Jordan hanging around by the table that Patricia Kendall was sitting at. Effie had really dolled herself up today. She was flaunting a hip-hugging black and white checkered dress and shiny black heels. Her skin had an almost plastic sheen to it, and her reddish-brown hair was tied up in a bun. 

Meanwhile, Alice’s stockings were running again, her shapeless navy skirt still had bits of lint from the dryer, and her stringy hair was frizzing up a little bit from being soaked by the rain and then being subjected to the heaters in the courthouse. She had the sudden urge to just go home and crawl back into bed. 

But she swallowed it down and ran to meet Jack, who was bringing the Gang with him. Escorted by police officers, of course. 

As soon as she got the boys settled in their seats, Judge Thomas Scott Hooper entered and took his place, and so the trial could begin. 

Ace was called to the stand first. 

Effie asked the first questions. 

“Right,” she said, glancing down at a piece of paper on the desk that Patricia was sitting at. “Your name is Ace Dante Copular, born in Townsville on the twentieth of December, 1983?” 

Ace reached up to adjust his sunglasses, only to remember that Alice had instructed he take them off earlier. “Uh, yeah.” 

“So that would make you seventeen years old?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Your parents are Albert and April Copular?” 

Ace didn't like where this was going. “Yeah.” 

Effie picked up on it. “Are you currently living with your parents?” 

A slight hesitation. “Uh, no.” 

“Why is that?” 

There was the feeling of dread again, settling deep in his bones. He felt his throat run dry and all the moisture headed straight for his hands as he spoke in barely a whisper. 

“What was that?” Effie asked. “I didn't quite catch that.” 

Again Ace mumbled something incoherent. 

Effie leaned forwards and brought a cupped hand up to her ear, a devilish smirk on her face. She had obviously heard the first few times, she had to have to be doing this with that smirk on her face. 

“Could you repeat that, louder this time? Everyone needs to be able to hear you.” 

“Because they...they...hurt me…!” Ace scrunched his face up as if he was trying not to cry in front of the entire courtroom, news cameras included. 

There was a very brief murmur of sympathy. 

Effie was still smirking. “So they were abusive, you mean?” 

A nod. 

“I need a verbal answer.” 

“...Yes.” 

“And what was the nature of their abuse?” 

“Objection!” Alice shouted. “That question is extremely…” 

“I'll allow it.” Hooper said, giving Alice a look. 

“What was the nature of their abuse?” Effie repeated. 

Oh God, how Ace desperately wished he was anywhere else but here. Even the holding cell seemed appealing. 

His hands trembled as he said “I - I don't wanna talk about that…” 

“Answer that question.” Effie said. 

“I can't, I-” 

“Answer the question, Mr Copular.” This time Hooper spoke, giving Ace a side glance. 

Tears threatened to spill over. “They, uh…” He took a shaky breath, then continued. “My dad...beat me. He'd hit me and kick me...and he once punched me because I came home late from school once, even though I wasn't late at all. And my mum sometimes locked me in the linen closet when she was annoyed with me and she'd leave me here for hours and...and once I was in there for so long that I…” He hung his head in shame and said the next part very quickly, in a low voice, praying he wouldn't be asked to repeat himself. 

Effie didn't miss a beat. “Could you please repeat that last…” 

“No.” It was one of the members of the jury, a black woman with huge framed glasses. “No...we heard him the first time.” The courtroom was silent with unanimous agreement. Even the judge nodded. 

“Yes, Effie, just ask your next question.” 

“Fine.” She turned back to Ace. “Are you a runaway?” 

“Yeah.” Ace rubbed his eye. 

“How old were you when you ran away?” 

“Nine.” 

“So this would have been in 1993, correct?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What made you decide to run away? And please, lift your head up when you're speaking to me.” 

Ace did so, his eyes glossy with tears. “I asked when dinner was gonna be ready...and my mum called me ungrateful and said that I should be glad I'd be eatin’ at all...and then when dinner was ready they didn't give me any and when I asked for some my mum slapped me and I hit the wall and got a bruise. So I decided to just go…” 

“And where did you go?” 

“I got picked up by the police, and they took me back home.” 

“How did your parents react?” Effie said in a tone of voice that suggested that Ace had done something incredibly stupid. 

“They...they put me back into the closet and they beat me whenever I tried to sneak back out.” 

“But you managed to run away again, yes?” 

“Yeah. They kept me in the closet for a week and only let me back out to use the bathroom...and one day I just ran out the front door instead.” 

“And where did you go this time?” 

“To the dump.” 

“Why there?” 

“‘Cause I figured that no one would bother me there. I found a shack there and just moved myself in, and I've been there ever since.” 

“And you often stole from people to provide for you and your gang?” 

“Yeah. There was just no other way.” 

“Well,” Effie gestured with her hands. “You could have just gotten a job.” 

“How?” Ace snorted, but his eyes showed that he was still dangerously close to crying. “Who would hire me? I got no skills. And who would trust me?” 

“Did you often resort to violence?” 

“Yeah. A lot of people were stubborn.” 

Effie muttered something under her breath, which sounded like “sure, blame the victims.” She then looked at Ace. “Have you ever stabbed anyone with your pocket knife?” 

“No. Me and the boys would push and shove and kick the stubborn ones, and we only used the knife to threaten people.” 

“So you never resorted to extreme violence?” 

“No.” 

“Did any of the other gang members?” 

“No.” 

“What about when you fought the Powerpuff Girls?” 

“Well, we never stabbed them, and we didn't stab that man either.” Ace’s voice wobbled. 

“Oh, really? Where were you on the night of eighth of June?” 

“Me and the boys was sprayin’ graffiti in the subway. We got back to our shack after a few hours.” 

“What time did you enter the subway?” 

“Around eight, I think?” 

“You didn't see or hear anything when you got back?” 

“No…”

“Very suspicious…” 

“It's the truth!” A lone tear rolled down Ace’s cheek and he wiped it away, desperately wishing that he could hide behind his sunglasses. Alice took note of this. 

“Can we have a short recess?” She asked. 

Hooper’s mouth wavered. “All right. Everyone come back in ten minutes.” He cracked the gavel and the peanut gallery began filing through the doors. As soon as they had gone, Ace’s knees buckled and he collapsed against the stand with his head in his arms, sobbing loudly.


	13. Chapter 13

Ace had never felt so defeated, so humiliated. He could handle bringing it up in vague passing, but here…here he had been forced to rip open old wounds. In front of the whole city. He wanted to be swallowed up by the floor he stood on, never to be seen again. 

Alice approached him gingerly. “Ace? Are you okay?” 

Ace lifted his head up and wiped his eyes. “Yeah…” He tried to sound defiant and strong, but his voice was full of pain, pain that had lasted for many years. 

Alice reached and fished a tissue out of her suitcase, then handed it to him. He took it gratefully and she turned away, feeling incredibly guilty somehow. Those tears were completely genuine. The marks of unbearable pain. 

“As soon as Effie’s finished it'll be my turn to ask the question. Will you be alright?” 

A shrug of the shoulders. 

“Just hope she wraps it up quickly.” 

Effie and Hooper returned after a few minutes, followed by the peanut gallery, and the trial resumed. 

Effie took one look at Ace’s puffy eyes and sniffed. “I have no further questions.” 

Hooper raised his eyebrows. Alice did too. She didn't like such a sudden decision. But whatever, it was her turn. She stepped forward. 

“Right,” she said, clapping her hands together. “You are the leader of the Gangreen Gang?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Does this mean you provide for them?” 

“Uh, kinda.” 

“Could you elaborate on that?” 

“Well, I watch the food supply and I say if we have to go get more, and I watch how much everyone eats to make sure we're not left with nothin’, just stuff like that.” 

“Where did you get your food from?” 

“Stole it.” 

“From anywhere specifically?” 

“From Malph’s and a couple other places.” 

“What kind of food do you get specifically?” 

“Junk food. Alcohol. That sort of thing.” 

Alice nodded slowly. “Did you ever take any, er, household items as well?” 

“Well, we take toilet paper.” Several people in the peanut gallery gave a quiet laugh. “‘Cause we ain't wipin’ out asses with-” 

“Okay, we get it!” Alice said quickly. “But, on another note, what subway tunnel did you enter on the night of the murder?” 

“The one on Hubert Street.” 

“What kind of graffiti did you do?” 

“Um, well, I sprayed ‘Ace was here’ and ‘Townsville sucks’.” 

“What colours?” 

“White and green.” 

“Did you use any particular font?” 

Ace held back a sigh. These questions were getting really specific and kind of annoying. Better than Effie’s, though. “Uh, bubble words.” 

Alice nodded and thought for a second before saying “I have no further questions.” She leaned towards Ace. “Right. You go sit back down and we’ll bring up Samira when everyone comes back.” 

Ace obliged. Snake leaned over to pat his back, and so did Big Billy. 

She called Samira to the stand and began to ask her questions. 

“So, your name is-” 

“SAMIRA DEANNA INGLEBERRY!!” 

Everyone turned to see a very angry Mr and Mrs Ingleberry. Alice felt her throat go dry. 

“Get down from that stand this instant!” Mr Ingleberry yelled. 

“Don't interfere with the justice system!” Mrs Ingleberry added. 

“Order in the court!” Hooper boomed. He pointed the gavel at the couple. “Sit down, please, and be quiet, or I'll have to have security escort you out.” 

Me Ingleberry opened his mouth, as if he was going to ask this insolent judge if he knew who he was, but his wife thought better of the whole situation and sat down, tugging at her husband’s sleeve until he sat down as well. 

Alice got back down to business. “Right, so we all know what your name is now.” That got a laugh out of the girl. Good. “So, you are serving as a character witness for Sanford Dwight Ingleberry?” 

Some people in the peanut gallery started laughing, Ace being one of them. 

“I forgot that was your middle name!” 

Buttercup also found it amusing. “Loser,” she murmured. 

The Utonium family was sitting in one of the middle rows, the girls propped up by cushions so they could see. Blossom and Buttercup had begged to come, Blossom so she could learn more about how the courtroom operated and Buttercup because she wanted to see the Gangreen Gang go down. 

And much to the Professor’s surprise, Bubbles wanted to come along as well. She didn't say why, but she insisted and the Professor relented. 

She wanted to see if they really were guilty. 

Um, yes, I am.” Samira responded. 

“And what relation are you to him?” 

“I'm his sister.” 

“Older or younger?” 

“Um, we’re twins…but I'm younger.” 

Alice nodded. “So you grew up with him?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What was your relationship with him like?” 

Samira shrugged. “Oh, it was just normal brother-sister stuff. We got on each other's nerves all the time.” 

“How so?” 

“Well, we'd get into stupid sibling fights about God knows what. And he’d hide bugs in my room and I'd put salt in his tea and stuff like that. Just normal sibling rivalry stuff, but no, we got along fine otherwise.” 

“So he wasn't abusive towards you, he didn't hit or kick you?” 

“No, but I did see his kick our nanny a few times because she wouldn't let him have ice cream.” 

“What was his relationship with your parents like?” 

Samira grimaced. “Not good.” 

“How?” 

“Well, they argued constantly. About, like, everything. His grades and his drug use, mostly.” 

“What were his grades like?” 

Samira gazed at the ceiling as she thought of a response. “Really bad. Mostly C’s and a couple F’s” 

“And what drugs was he using?” 

“He smoked weed and cigarettes, mostly, but he said that he's done coke before. I don't know if that's true though.” 

“How often was he using?” 

“Couple times a week. The admins at our school kept calling our parents about it.” 

“Where did he get the drugs from.” 

Samira shrugged. “Dunno. He wouldn't tell me, so I just assumed one of his friends or classmates was supplying him.” 

Alice brushed a lock of hair away. “Is that why he got expelled?” 

“No,” Samira said, obviously trying not to laugh. “That was for stealing sodium from the science lab and dumping it in the toilet.” 

Several people snorted. Hooper and Effie both rolled their eyes. Blossom sighed disappointedly. Snake, however, smiled as if it were a fond memory. 

“Well okay,” Alice continued. “But for those of us who aren't chemists, could you please explain what happened?” 

Samira obliged. “Well, sodium reacts very violently with water, like, even just a little piece of it in a container of water can make a big explosion. And so when he dumped it in the toilet, it reacted with the water in the bowl, and the entire toilet exploded.” 

“Cool!” Buttercup said. 

Jack smacked his hand against his face and Hooper did the same. Kids these days! 

Alice giggled for a second then transitioned into a more serious subject. “What happened after he was expelled?” 

Samira took on a more somber expression as well. “Um, well, Father called him and asked him not to return home. He said that he was sick of him bringing shame and disgracing the family name and stuff. And he said that if he showed up they wouldn't let him in.” 

“Did you do or say anything to them about it?” 

“I filed a missing person report a couple weeks later because I was really worried and I hadn't heard from him.” 

“Did anything happen when you did that?” 

“No. The police told me they'd look into it but they never did. I don't know if my parents found out about it but if they did, they never said anything to me about it. But anyway, I started seeing him around town every so often and I relaxed a little bit.” 

“Was he with the others?”

“Always.” 

“Did you ever see him display any sort of violent behaviour?” 

“No. Well, I heard that he and the others robbed supermarkets and stuff, but I never saw anything.” 

“What about the others?” 

“Same thing.” 

Alice exhaled quietly. “I have no further questions.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been away for a while. I've had trouble motivating myself to write.

It was Snake’s turn on the stand. He shuffled over and seated himself behind the mic while Effie looked up and down at him before approaching. 

“Name?” She obviously knew what his name was. She just wanted to hear him say it, Snake could tell. 

“Sssanford Dwight Ingleberry.” He scowled at Effie as muffled laughter echoed across the courtroom. She responded with a sly smile. 

“Birthday?” 

“Twenty-eighth of April, nineteen eight-five.” 

“And your parents are Terence and Mirabelle Ingleberry?” 

“Yesss.” 

“So,” Effie clasped her hands behind her back. “What drugs did you use in school?” That was a bit of a big question to ask so suddenly. 

“Weed. And I've only done coke like, twicce.” 

“Where did you get it from?” 

“Sssome guy in one of my classsess.” 

“And where did HE get it from?” 

“Sssomeone he knew in the cccity.”

“When were you expelled from school?” 

“Ninety-eight.” 

“So you would have been thirteen years old?” 

“Yesss.” 

“What did you do after you were expelled?” 

“Went to go live with Acce, Grubber and Big Billy.” 

Effie furrowed her brow. “Let's backtrack for a minute: you already knew them by that point?” 

“Yeah.” 

“How did you meet them?” 

“I met them when I wass ssstill living at home. I used to ssneak out at night and hang around the back ssstreetss. One night I ran into Acce, he and I ssstruck up a converssation, and thingss jussst went from there.” 

“Birds of a feather stick together,” Effie muttered loud enough for those in the front rows to hear. Both Snake and Alice glares at her. 

“”Really, Effie? That's a bit low.” Alice said. 

Effie waved her off. “Are you still doing drugs?” She focused back on Snake, putting a little extra emphasis on the “still”. 

Snake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His eyes fluttered from Effie, then to Alice, the rest of the gang and back to Effie. “Yeah,” he said, trailing off. 

That was the answer Effie was looking for. Her face lit up in a polite, venomous smile. “Of course. I have no further questions.” She turned her back as Alice stood up. 

“Okay,” Alice said as she took a deep breath. “You're still using drugs. Still weed?” 

“Yess.” 

“Anything stronger?” 

“No. Weed’sss the cheapest.” 

“How often?” 

Snake shrugged. “About oncce or twicce a month. Whenever I can get it, pretty much.” 

“And were you high on the night of the murder?” Alice slowly turned her head to glare at Effie, who stared innocently back. Smug vapid bitch, she thought. I'd love to throw her in prison. 

“No. I'd run out the week before.” 

Alice broke into a wide grin as if to say ha! Suck it, Effie! “I have no further questions.” 

Snake slithered out of his seat and over to the gang as Arturo was called to the stand. He watched with mild amusement at the minor kerfuffle as Arturo had to be propped up with several slightly dusty law books in order to reach the mic. 

Effie yawned as she stood, covering her mouth with the papers in her hand. She looked at her newest victim with contempt. 

“Alright,” she finished off her yawn, “name?” 

“Arturo de la Guerra.” He brushed a lock of hair out of his eye. 

“Date of birth?” 

“January fifth, nineteen eighty-seven.” 

“And you are from Mexico, correct?” 

“Sí. From Zihuatanejo.” 

Effie rubbed at her eyes. “Alright, I want you to answer me honestly…” 

Arturo leaned in closer to listen better. Alice got an uneasy feeling. Ace narrowed his eyes, as did Grubber. They didn't like that faux imploring expression in Effie’s face…

“So, did you hop the border?” 

There were a few collective gasps of shock, and someone in the back began “ooooh”ing. 

“Whoah!” Ace exclaimed. Snake pursed his lips. 

Macho, who was present as a character witness, was sitting with his mouth agape, as were the guards flanking either side of him. Arturo felt his face burn. 

“Oh dear,” the Professor clapped a hand to his head. 

“What do you mean, ‘oh dear’?” Blossom asked. “Isn't it illegal to cross the border without permission?” 

As the Professor began explaining why it was rude to say something like that, as Macho was muttering something under his breath in Spanish, as Jack Wednesday and the rest of that Gangreen Gang glared daggers at Effie, Alice glanced over at the papers in Effie’s hand, and noticed something that plunged the entire courtroom into chaos. 

“YOU’VE GOT THE IMMIGRATION DOCUMENT IN YOUR HAND, YOU RACIST-” Alice didn't even finish her sentence before everyone reacted. 

Everyone was either laughing or shouting furiously, Macho being one of them. 

“¿QUIÉN COÑO CREES QUE ERES?” he spat viciously. 

Grubber spat something equally as vicious and so vulgar that Billy laughed and Snake’s eyes widened before narrowing at Effie. 

The Professor covered the girls’ ears. 

“You can just fuck right off with that shit!” Ace yelled. 

Jack and Alice shook their heads in disapproval, Alice saying “I can't believe you! I really can't!” 

The members of the jury glanced quickly at one another with their mouths agape. 

Arturo, who felt his face must surely be ablaze, buried his head in his arms. 

Hooper slammed his gavel down several times. “ORDER IN THE COURT! ORDER IN THE COURT!” He boomed until everyone finally settled down. He leaned forward and pointed the gavel at Effie. “Really Effie, I expected better from you!” 

Effie exhaled quietly as if blowing away his anger. “Alright, I'm sorry,” she said very unconvincingly. “I just wanted to make sure…”

“Objection!” Alice yelled. “That's bullshit and you know it!” 

“Alice…” Hopper held a hand up to his head. He turned to Effie. “This is your last warning. So help me, if you make one more racist remark…” his voice trailed off ominously as he massaged his temple. “Continue with the trial.” 

“Gladly.” Effie said. She looked over at Arturo, who still had his head in his arms. “Excuse me, but could you look up now?” 

Arturo did, but it was obvious he'd been crying. His one visible eye was moist and his cheeks were bright red. Alice was suddenly overcome with the urge to give him a hug; he looked so sad and pitiful. 

“So, when did you come to the United States?” Effie began. 

“Nineteen ninety-four.” Arturo had a wobble in his voice. “I was seven.” 

“And why did you come?” 

“Because it's the land of opportunity.” He shrugged. 

“When did you first meet the rest of the gang?” 

“About two or three years ago. I spent a lot of time on the streets and met them that way.” 

“When did you officially join the gang?” 

“When my Papi was arrested two years ago.” 

“What for?” 

Arturo fidgeted with his hands as he said “robbery and assault.” 

“How long did he get in prison?” 

He shrugged. 

“I need a verbal answer, please.” 

Alice inwardly scoffed at the “please”. Effie only said it in an attempt to get Hooper off her back...damn Hooper! Why does he have to be so trusting? 

“I don't know,” Arturo responded. He caught his father’s eye in the peanut gallery. “This is the first time I've seen him in two years.” He felt tears brimming again and dabbed at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. 

Macho did the same. 

“And what about you mother, hm? Where's she in this picture?” Effie carried on. 

“Died.” 

“When, and how?” Effie wasn't asking for clarity, just to satisfy her morbid curiosity. It was in her eyes, now widened as she leaned closer to him. 

“Objection! That's irrelevant!” Alice called. “She's starting to badger him!” 

“Am I? I think you have pretty poor judgement of what is and isn't relevant, Alice.” Effie shot back. 

Alice flushed, but she wasn't going to let her get away with that. “At least I'm not racist-” 

“You know what?” Hooper cracked the gavel, then threw his hands into the air. “I'm getting real sick of this drama. I'm calling a recess. Everyone be back here in twenty minutes. Hopefully we sort everything out.” He glared at both women. “And I need some more coffee, anyway.” He stood up and matched out of the courtroom, his charcoal-black robe fluttering behind him. 

“I'm going too,” Effie said. She picked up her binder and looked at Alice heading over to comfort Arturo. “Why don't you join me and we can kiss and make up?” 

“Go fuck yourself,” Alice responded without turning around.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with a new story y'all! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this and feel free to leave a review, I love hearing what you have to say :)


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